Oh Boy, Aliens!
by JerzeyGirl
Summary: Marco wakes up in a rather strange place, and back home a certain scientist has taken his place...Animorphs & Quantum Leap
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **So I have a real weakness for a well-written crossover, and I had not seen this one anywhere. The idea jumped into my head and wouldn't let go, so I decided to give a shot at writing it myself. The well-written part, is, of course, subject to opinion, but I thought someone out there might be interested in this crossover. Just a warning, but once the already written chapters run out, I don't have any set schedule for updates. This is pretty much a just for fun, whenever-I-feel-like-writing-it story.

* * *

My name is Marco. And I have no idea where I am. 

This isn't all that unprecedented, but suddenly appearing in a strange place isn't really something you get used to.

Although, as strange places go, this one wasn't that bad. There was oxygen. That was a plus. I was wearing a really weird white jumpsuit though, and I didn't like the idea that someone had changed my clothes while I was unconscious.

Unless it was a hot girl.

The biggest problem was that I had no recollection of how I had gotten here. Not only that, but I couldn't really remember what I was doing before I had gotten here. It was all rather hazy.

You probably know by now that I'm not going to tell you my last name or where I live. For those that didn't know, let's just say I have my reasons, and leave it at that for now. The problem though, was that I wouldn't be able to tell you even if I wanted to. For some reason I couldn't remember those key details. And that was slightly worrying.

I could remember why I can't tell you though, and that thought was at the forefront of my mind as I looked around the weird blue room. There was a heavy white door on one wall, but other than that the walls were seamless, and the room was bare except for a heavy metal table in the middle. It looked disconcertingly like an operating table. I didn't know where I was, but I knew one thing for sure. I was a prisoner.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Due to laziness, I have included the Quantum Leap intro in order to initiate any readers who don't know the series, instead of incorporating it into the story. I figured it does a better job of explaining things than I could ever hope to. Also, it should go without saying, but I don't own Quantum Leap or Animorphs. I just thought the characters should have a chance to meet.

* * *

"_Theorizing that one could time-travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett led an elite group of scientists into the desert, to develop a top-secret project known as Quantum Leap. Pressured to prove his theories or lose funding, Dr. Beckett prematurely stepped into the project accelerator, and vanished..._

_He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Dr. Beckett finds himself Leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next Leapwill be the Leap home..."_

Sam opened his eyes, tensing up immediately as he always did when dropped into new surroundings. Hyper-alert he sat up, looking around the small bedroom. It was dark, quiet, and empty. Collapsing back onto the bed with a sigh, he closed his eyes again. It wasn't often that he leaped into a situation that didn't immediately demand his attention, and he fully intended to take advantage of it.

Whoever had put him here had other ideas though, since as soon as he shut his eyes, the clock on his bedside table started screaming at him. At least, that's what it sounded like, as Sam shot up again, groping for the button that would silence the offensive music.

6:30am. Why couldn't he ever leap in on the weekends?

Pulling himself out of the messy, single bed, Sam gave the room another look around. It almost certainly belonged to a teenager, and he wrinkled his nose as he examined the piles of dirty laundry and stacks of used dishes lying around. A teenage boy, Sam thought with a sigh of relief, noticing the pin-up of a vaguely familiar-looking woman over the kid's bed.

"Marco!" A man's voice called from what sounded like downstairs. "Marco, are you up yet?"

Marco? Was that him? Geez, who actually named their kid Marco? Taking the chance that the guy was actually talking to him, he cracked open the bedroom door and yelled out, "Uh, yeah!"

There was a moment or two of silence before the man called back, "Uh, okay! Good!"

Closing the door, Sam checked the calendar of vintage cars hanging on the back of it. It was Wednesday, April 13th...1997? Wow, Sam thought. As far as he could remember, which admittedly, was never much, this was as close to the present as he had ever leaped. And it was also, apparently, a school day.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Sam trudged into the small bathroom and finally got a look at the kid whose life he had replaced. He was young, about 14 or 15, best Sam could guess, with short dark hair, dark eyes and tan skin, probably Hispanic. He was kind of short, but would have been good-looking if he didn't look as tired as Sam felt. There were dark circles under his eyes and a sort of...weariness about his face. He hoped he wasn't on drugs or anything. That would make for an annoying leap.


	3. Chapter 2

**Marco**

The door seemed almost vacuum-sealed shut or something. Running my fingers along the edge, I could barely feel the indentation. Would a flea be able to get through there? I wasn't sure. And I really had to be sure. I could morph flea and hang out near the door waiting for someone to open it, but I had no illusions about this place. I was almost certainly being watched.

And probably not by a hot girl.

More likely by an evil parasitic alien bent on my destruction, which was why turning into a flea would be a bad idea.

So for those of you who are not yet with the program, I should probably explain this whole flea business. I can turn into animals. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Bear with me.

Our lovely planet Earth is being invaded by not-so-lovely aliens called Yeerks. They're parasites, just big slugs, really, that can crawl into the head of another creature and literally take over its mind. They control the person completely.

Creepy? Creepy doesn't even begin to cover it. And they were probably the owners of this blue room.

So what does this have to do with turning into a flea? Well, this other group of aliens, called Andalites, don't really like the Yeerks. One of these Andalites, whose name I can't seem to remember at the moment, sort've crash landed on Earth. My friends and I were lucky enough to be the first to stumble across him. Before he died, he told us about the invasion, and gave us a bit of Andalite technology to help us fight.

So now my five friends and I can turn into any animal we touch. It's a power that tends to be helpful in situations like this. And it's the only thing standing in the way of this invasion. Depressing, isn't it?

The problem, well, one of the problems, is the Yeerks see the morphing technology as strictly Andalite technology. So, they naturally assume someone using it, such as us, to be Andalite, and think the six of us are a guerilla group of Andalite bandits. It's an assumption we really don't want to shatter.

So, there were a couple of possibilities here. One, the Yeerks finally figured out who we all were and captured us. I was the only one here, but the others could have their own blue rooms for all I knew. This seemed like the most likely possibility, but I wasn't sure why they hadn't infested me yet. If it was the case, morphing wouldn't be an issue because they'd already know I'm human.

Two, they still think I'm an Andalite, and that this is my human morph. In which case, if I morphed they would see that I'm actually human, since you can only morph from your original form. However, again, barring some purpose or complication I can't imagine, I would have had a Yeerk in my head long before I gained consciousness. Especially if they thought I was an Andalite, since no Yeerk would risk a potential morph-capable host by giving it time to trap itself in morph.

Oh yeah, I didn't cover that part. If you stay in morph for more than...hmm, 2 hours? I think that's right, it's kinda fuzzy. Anyway, if you stay morphed longer than that, you end up trapped as that morph. Permanently. Gives the experience a fun new edge, doesn't it?

So where was I? Oh yeah, three, they didn't know anything. They knew I was human but didn't know I was one of the 'Andalite bandits' and had captured me for a totally different reason. This situation had the same problem as number two, since the minute I morphed, they would know I was more than a mild-mannered high-school kid.

So basically, it all came down to what they knew. All I could do at this point was prevent them from knowing anymore than they already did.

My thoughts were rather prematurely interrupted when the door I had been inspecting suddenly slid up into the wall. I backed up instinctively, ready for a fight, but the guy who came through the door was not exactly what I had been expecting.

"Easy, kid, I'm not gonna hurt ya," he said through the cigar clenched in his teeth.

He held up his hands in a gesture of peace and slowly walked into the room. I almost felt sorry for whatever Yeerk had to maintain this guy's fashion sense. The guy was wearing a silk shirt with what looked almost like a peacock pattern on it, red suspenders and a green fedora. At least I could be reasonably sure I wasn't on a ship. This guy's get-up was a far cry from the uniforms that seemed standard ship-side.

"My name's Al," the guy said, putting his hands down. "Can you tell me your name?"

Okay, so they probably didn't think I was an Andalite. They wouldn't be trying to pass themselves off as human for an Andalite. They would more likely be sneering, calling me 'filth' and hinting at my imminent doom. So that meant they either knew who I was, but were trying not to let on they did, or they didn't know who I was, and were trying to keep the whole evil alien thing under wraps. But either way, they knew I was human. That was going to be a problem when it came to escaping.

"Not in the mood to talk?" the Controller who called himself Al asked.

If I could keep this guy talking, I might be able to get more of the info I needed. On the other hand, if I said anything, I could inadvertently tell them something they didn't already know.

The guy drew in deep on the cigar, blowing out a silvery smoke ring. "I understand your reluctance. I mean, it's gotta be a little strange," he said with a grin, waving his cigar around at the blue room. "But it'll be easier on us if you can help us out, and it might get you home faster, too."

Definitely playing the human here. Okay, generic questions then. "Where am I?"

Al grinned again. "He speaks! You're in New Mexico, kid. Don't ask me exactly where, 'cause I can't tell ya. Classified, I'm sure you understand."

"Classified?"

"Yeah, you know, secret government stuff."

Government? That was a new approach. It was possible this was a government facility that had been taken over by the Yeerks, but I doubted it. The whole place just screamed 'alien'. It was likely some kind of testing facility for Visser Three's newest scheme for world domination.

He has a lot of those.

Deciding the best thing to do was keep playing the scared and confused human who knew nothing about aliens, I backed up some more, putting the table between me and the colorful Controller, before asking, "So, why am I here?"

The guy grimaced a little. "That's a tough one. You've kinda been mixed up in a top secret experiment. We're gonna do everything we can to get you back where you belong, but we're gonna need your help."

I wondered briefly if this was what the Yeerks told the test subjects of that free-will experiment awhile back. If so, they really needed to work on their story. I sighed, and looked down at the table. I didn't know what they were playing at, but it was starting to get old.

It actually took me a few seconds to register that the reflection in the metal table wasn't mine. When you turn into animals for a living, seeing a reflection other than your own isn't uncommon. But only when you're in morph.

I froze as I saw the guy staring back at me from the mirror. Was I in morph without realizing it? After all, the guy staring back at me in the mirror was quite a bit older, but still human. I might not have noticed the difference. I looked down at my hands. No, those were still my hands. But as I put a hand on the table, I could see it's reflection was that of a grown man.

I looked up at Controller Al. He seemed to be watching me a little more carefully, almost with apprehension. He was waiting for my reaction. He knew what I saw in the mirror.

I had seen this kind of thing before. It was a hologram. A very advanced hologram like the ones the Chee used to hide their identities. Were the Yeerks experimenting with holograms? Maybe they had found out about the Chee among their ranks.

Al was still looking at me, and I realized that a scared and confused human would probably have questions upon discovering they had a different reflection.

"Okay," I said, "what's going on here?"


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I'm taking some liberties with the timeline here, it's 1997 in the Animorphs' time and 1999 at Project Quantum Leap. This places the story about fifth season for QL and about a year since the Animorphs started fighting, not too long after the David Trilogy. In Al's time at Project Quantum Leap, the Animorphs have gone into hiding already, but the Yeerks are not yet public knowledge, sometime just after #49.

* * *

**Sam**_  
_

"I must say it's a nice change of pace to not have to drag you out of bed this morning," the man sitting at the kitchen table said with a smile. He lowered his paper just enough to look at Sam as he walked into the kitchen. "I'm sure it'll be too much to ask that it becomes a regular occurrence."

Sam laughed half-heartedly as he helped himself to some of the cereal sitting on the table. "Yeah, I, uh, wouldn't get used to it."

The man returned to his paper with a chuckle and Sam munched his Cheerios, thoughtfully looking around the room. He assumed the man sitting opposite him was Marco's father. The house seemed pretty quiet, so it was likely they were the only two living there, unless his mother had already left for work.

"Hey, Sam."

Sam started at the familiar voice, nearly dropping his spoon. Looking around, he could see the colorfully dressed Observer standing in the kitchen doorway, fiddling with the equally colorful handlink.

Standing up from the table, Sam picked up a backpack hanging off the chair that hopefully belonged to Marco. "I'll see ya after school, Dad," he said walking after Al.

The paper came down as Marco's dad looked at his watch. "You're leaving already? Your bus doesn't arrive for another half-hour."

Sam shifted the backpack farther up onto his shoulder, searching for an answer.

"Why don't you walk to school today, Sam, so we can chat?" Al suggested, looking up from the handlink.

"Uh, I thought I'd walk today. You know, get some exercise. I hear it's good for you."

The man raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. "Uh-huh. And what's her name?"

That definitely wasn't the question Sam had been expecting. "What? What's whose name?"

He pulled the paper back up, shifting his attention away from his son. "Don't worry, I'll find out her name soon enough. Have fun at school."

"What was that all about?" Sam asked once they were outside.

"Don't worry about it, Sam. Uh, Ziggy says school is that way." He pointed down the street with his cigar. "About twelve blocks."

"Great," Sam said as he started walking. "What've you got for me?"

"Uh, not a lot actually. The kid in the Waiting Room is seriously tight-lipped for a teenager. Seems a little paranoid if you ask me. I'm not sure he's quite right, if you know what I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know, it's the little things, I guess. Like he didn't really freak out when he saw his reflection, and, well, he's just a little too calm about the whole thing."

"Would it make you feel better if he was running around the Waiting Room screaming?"

"A little bit, yeah. At least it would be familiar. It's almost like he's been expecting it to happen or something."

"I think maybe you're the one who's paranoid here, Al."

"Fine, don't believe me. You asked, anyway."

"I meant information, not your thoughts on the Leapee."

"Alright, alright," he said, punching the handlink buttons. "Ziggy has managed to get the basics without help from our friend in the Waiting Room. Apparently, your name is Marco Everett, you're fourteen years old and you live in a suburb of Sant...Santabar...oh, Santa Barbara, California. It's April 13th..."

"1997, yeah, I know that. Al, have I ever leaped this close to the present before?"

He shook his head. "No, this is the closest. You're only about two years in the past."

"So, theoretically, I could go to the Project and see everyone if I wanted to."

Al shrugged, flicking some ash from the end of his cigar. "Theoretically, yeah, but I wouldn't recommend it. You'd have a hell of a time convincing everyone who you are."

"Not necessarily, I mean by now I've been leaping for two years. And you would see me as me, wouldn't you?"

"I guess," Al said, looking skeptical. "I mean, I've only ever seen you while in the Imaging Chamber. I don't know if I can see through the aura in real life. And besides, I don't think little Marco here has the means to catch a flight to New Mexico anyway."

Sam sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"So let's just focus on what you're here to do."

"Okay, what am I here to do?"

"Wellll, we're not quite sure yet. Ziggy's been looking up as much info as she can get, but it's harder to access since you're so close to the present. And like I said, the guy in the Waiting Room is no help at all."

"Do you have anything?"

"Well, your mother, Eva, died about three years ago, and your dad, Peter, the guy you were eating breakfast with, quit his job because of it. I think he sort of lost it, because it says here he was working as a janitor."

"So am I here to get him back on track?"

"No, no, he did that himself about a year ago. Got his old job back and seems fine."

"Hmm, how did his mom die?"

Al punched a few buttons on the handlink. "Boating accident. Apparently she went sailing during a storm and the boat capsized. Her body was never found."

"So I'm obviously not here to help her. Is that everything?"

"Only other thing we've found is your, I mean Marco's, grades have been steadily declining over the past year or so."

"You think he's involved in something? Drugs, maybe? A gang?"

"I don't know, Sam. Was there any drug paraphernalia in his room?"

"I didn't see any, but he could be hiding a dead body in that room and no one would know it. So what are the odds I'm supposed to get Marco back on track?"

"Hmm," Al said, consulting the handlink. "63.2. Pretty low."

"Well, then go back and try to talk to Marco some more. See if he'll let you run a drug test, at least it might give us some answers."

"Okay, Sam, but don't get your hopes up. Beeks hasn't even been able to get him to talk." He punched a button and the door to the Imaging Chamber slid open. "Have fun at school," he said with a grin, before disappearing behind the closed door.

With a sigh, Sam continued walking towards the school.


	5. Chapter 4

**Project Quantum Leap**

"There's been a problem with a top-secret, government funded time-travel experiment. You have been replaced in time by one of our scientists."

The kid standing on the other side of the table said nothing, but raised his eyebrows in apparent skepticism. Dr. Verbena Beeks sighed, picking up her pen and pad again. It was Project policy not to reveal any more to the Leapee than they needed to know, but it had seemed apparent that this kid wouldn't be responding to anything other than honesty. And it looked like even that wouldn't be enough.

"That's him in your reflection by the way. The scientist you traded places with." The kid named Marco glanced down at the mirrored table again, looking wholly unimpressed. Fixing his dark eyes back on Verbena, he continued to stare in silence.

"You don't have to tell us anything, Marco," she said in her best soothing voice. She picked up on the slight flinch that danced across the kid's guarded face when she said his name. "It'll only help us get you back to your own time quicker. We already got the basics, but anything you can tell us about your life will be helpful."

He stared a little more, before finally asking, "What kind of basics?"

Verbena looked up from her pad at the question, the boy's voice startling her. "Oh, well, your name, where you live, when you live, that sort of thing. The standard information our scientist needs to know."

"Dr. Beeks?" Marco jumped a little at the female voice that suddenly rang through the Waiting Room, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

Verbena smiled a bit at the boy's reaction, as it was probably the first genuine one to come out of him since he had been here. "Yes, Ziggy?"

"Admiral Calavicci has returned from the Imaging Chamber, and has requested a blood test to be administered on Mr. Everett."

The look of pure panic that crossed the kid's face at that statement told Verbena all she needed to know about how that particular endeavor would go down. "Please tell the Admiral I will be with him in a moment."

"Certainly, Dr. Beeks."

She turned back to Marco and smiled. "Please don't worry. No medical procedures will be performed without your express consent. I promise. I'll be back in a little bit to talk some more, okay? I'll have someone bring some food in, and if you need to use the restroom, it's through that door." She pointed to a well concealed door on the opposite wall.

Al was waiting impatiently for her in the Control Room, and she rolled her eyes as he gave her that annoying where-have-you-been look. "Get anything out of him?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. He wasn't anymore talkative for me than for you. He's definitely hiding something, though."

"That I was able to pick up on myself. Anything else?"

"Just that he's scared. He won't admit it to anyone, much less to himself, but he's really scared."

"Well he doesn't act like it. Do you think he'll let us take blood?"

Verbena chuckled a little at that. "No, I'm pretty sure he'd fight it with everything he had. He looked about ready to dig his way out when Ziggy mentioned it."

"So maybe he really is on drugs. Maybe that's what he's hiding."

"It's possible, I suppose, but I doubt it. Something about this seems bigger than that. Plus he certainly doesn't act like he's on drugs."

"Yeah, you're right. I just..."

"Admiral, I apologize for the interruption, but I thought you might wish to know that Marco Everett is no longer in the Waiting Room."

Al whirled around to face the blue globe hanging from the ceiling. "What?? Are you telling me he escaped? Or did Sam leap?"

"I am telling you that my scheduled scan of the Waiting Room registered no human life forms. The Waiting Room is empty."


	6. Chapter 5

**Sam**

Sam felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach as he approached the large brick school building. He definitely wasn't looking forward to going back to high school. Being two years younger than everyone else hadn't exactly helped when he had went, but he eventually found acceptance. It just took awhile to get it.

"Don't you usually take the bus?"

Sam whirled around to face the new voice. It was coming from a tall, very pretty girl with sparkling blue eyes, straight blond hair that reached about mid-back, and a very knowing smirk. She was immaculately dressed in a light green two-piece sweater, crisp dark blue bell-bottom jeans, and shiny black boots. There definitely didn't look like there was anything wrong in her life, but then Sam knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving.

"I, uh, thought I'd walk today."

"Uh-huh," she said, staring at him with an expression almost identical to the one his father had given him in the kitchen. She looked down the sidewalk back the way he had come. "Well, I don't see a girl. Did you scare her off?"

Sam looked bewildered again. "What girl?"

The girl laughed and tossed her hair back as she started walking again. "Come on, Marco, the only reason you would walk to school is if you somehow convinced some unsuspecting female to walk with you. Even if you missed the bus, you'd fly before you walked to school."

Sam laughed a little uncertainly as he followed the girl to the steps of the school, trying discreetly to see something that might have her name on it. No luck, though, not even her messenger bag was labeled.

"Let me guess," the girl continued. "You met with her, she fell madly in love you, and then you opened your mouth. And she disappeared faster than sale items at Nordstrom."

He could pretty much rule out this girl as the girlfriend. And seeing as she thought he was on the prowl, it was likely Marco didn't have one. That was one less headache to deal with at least.

"Hey, Rach." Sam almost didn't notice the second girl come up to them. She gave Sam a polite smile, but otherwise didn't greet him. Sam got the feeling they probably didn't know each other that well.

The first girl, who Sam guessed was probably named Rachel, looked the new girl up and down, sighing. "Cassie, Cassie, Cassie, I thought you were going to wear the jeans I picked out for you on Saturday. What happened?"

Cassie rolled her eyes, and Sam noted that she could not have looked more different from Rachel if she tried. She was short, with dark skin, short black hair, and absolutely no frills. Her jeans were patched and muddy, her sneakers equally dirty, and her shirt was a simple purple tee. Cassie seemed rough, simple and down-to-earth and Sam found himself taking an immediate liking to her.

"I had some last minute work to do this morning and I knew you'd kill me if I got them dirty. I'll wear them tomorrow, I promise."

Rachel sighed again and put her arm around Cassie's shoulder, leading her away. "See you later, Marco!" she called over her shoulder as they left, and Sam found himself standing in the schoolyard alone.

It wasn't for long, though, as he was greeted with a heavy slap on the back that nearly gave him a heart attack. "Hey, Marco," the kid said, coming up beside him. He was taller than Marco and much more built, with brown hair and eyes, and a confident smile. And unlike the two girls he had met, his green backpack was labeled.

"Hey, Jake," Sam said with as friendly a smile as he could manage.

A look of concern passed briefly over the boy's face as he looked at Sam. "You okay, man? You look pretty beat."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I didn't sleep real well."

It was almost shocking how quickly the kid's light-hearted expression became serious, and Sam almost felt uncomfortable as Jake nodded knowingly at him. "Nightmares?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"Uh, no, it was just one of those nights, you know?"

Jake smiled a grim smile completely different than the one he wore a minute ago. "Yeah," he said. "I know."

Sam followed Jake into the school, lost in his own thoughts. There had been something in the kid's eyes when he looked at him, something familiar, and his gut was telling him it was important to this leap.

Jake waved a goodbye as the bell rang through the halls, and Sam stood in the hallway alone for a few seconds before realizing there was probably somewhere he needed to be. Fumbling through Marco's backpack, Sam searched for something that might reveal where his first class was. From what he knew so far of Marco, a date book was probably too much to ask for, but he did manage to find a crumpled piece of paper on the bottom of the bag. It was probably the schedule given on the first day of school, based on its condition. He could only just make out the smudged words that said his first class was English, and in room 302. Glancing back into the backpack, Sam could see he didn't have an English textbook with him.

Looking up, Sam was barely even surprised when he found he was face-to-face with Al. "Hi, Sam," he said. "We sorta need to talk."

"Okay, but first where's Marco locker?"

Al shrugged. "How should I know?"

Sam rolled his eyes and started pushing his way through the crowded hallway. "You're the one with the supercomputer, remember?"

"Yeah, well Ziggy doesn't know. We've kinda had our hands full with our Visitor."

Sam sighed. "He's a kid, Al, how much trouble could he cause?"

The look on the Observer's face clearly said it had been more trouble than he wanted to deal with, and Sam stopped walking. "What happened?"

Al looked uneasy. "Well..."

"What happened??"

"He kinda...disappeared."

Sam blinked a few times, trying to process this, and not caring that people were starting to notice his intense conversation with thin air. "He what??"

"He disappeared."

"He escaped? Is he still in the Complex?"

"Well, we don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't know? There are security cameras all over that place!"

"Yeah, but that's the thing. Far as we can tell, he never left the Waiting Room."

"But I thought you said he wasn't there."

"He's not. But he didn't use the Waiting Room door to leave. According to the guard in the Observation Room, he went into the bathroom and never came out. But he's not in there, Sam. We searched the whole Waiting Room."

"There's no exit in that bathroom. The only way out of the Waiting Room is through the door. He must still be in there."

"He's not, Sam. I'm telling you, he disappeared. We actually thought you had leaped out at first."

"People don't just disappear, Al. You have to find him!"

"We're working on it. Ziggy's working on getting a lock onto his brainwaves so we can pinpoint his location, if he's still in the Complex. Problem is, she's got a pretty small sample to work with, just what she scanned when he first leaped in."

"Well go back and help her then! I can deal with this leap on my own for now, but you have to make sure Marco is back in the Waiting Room."


	7. Chapter 6

**Marco**

So it probably wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done, but I had to do something, right? I was banking on one of two possibilities. One, they knew what I was capable of, in which case they would probably be expecting this. Either way, it wouldn't be giving anything away. Or two, they weren't watching the bathroom. I mean, come on, who puts a camera in the bathroom? There hadn't been any sudden rush of guards with dracon beams when I started morphing, so it seemed likely that was the case.

It actually took a lot longer than I thought for someone to come open the bathroom door. A few minutes, at least. I could feel the influx of air tumble me around as the door swung open, and as soon as I righted myself, I zipped through the bright square of light. I flew directly over to the outer door, but, like the bathroom door, not even my tiny fly body could fit through the cracks. Damn, these aliens were paranoid. So, yeah, they had a good reason to be paranoid, but that didn't mean it wasn't paranoia. Fortunately, it didn't take long for the door to slide open, and the guy who called himself Al walked in. I couldn't see real well, but I recognized his voice as he yelled threats at the people investigating the bathroom.

The voice faded as the door closed again behind me. The fly's eyes were terrible, but I could sort of make out a white hallway crossing my path. At one end I could see what looked like another sealed door. I couldn't make out what was at the other end.

Since I knew I wouldn't be able to get through the door, I went the other way. The hall opened up into a room, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was in it. I'm pretty sure there was a person there, but they were surrounded by a crazy kaleidoscope of insane colors. I couldn't tell which colors were real, and which were a product of the fly eyes, but I could see another opening in the wall that denoted a hallway, and I buzzed in that direction, leaving the crazy colors behind. The hallway was just like the other one, but there was a beautiful sight at the end. A pair of elevator doors.

* * *

**Project Quantum Leap**

Al stared at the surveillance video that was currently showing a closed bathroom door. "You know, one of these days we really need to put a camera in that bathroom," he muttered to the guard standing next to him.

"I just don't understand it, sir," the guard said, definitely sounding nervous. "There isn't even a vent in that room. It's nearly airtight."

"I know, corporal, it's not your fault." Al sighed as he watched the guard on the tape open the bathroom door, gun at the ready. _He must have sneaked out here somehow. But as he continued to watch the tape, he could plainly see that no one left the bathroom except the guard who had gone into investigate._

"I just don't understand it," the man said again.

Al turned back to the guard. "Okay, I want two teams, a complete sweep of the complex. One start at the top floor, the other start—"

"Admiral Calavicci?"

Al stood up so fast he almost knocked down the man he was giving orders to. "What is it, Ziggy? Do you have a lock?"

"My scans indicate a brainwave pattern within the complex matching that of Marco Everett's by approximately 72.6."

"Well, that's gotta be him, right?"

"I am unable to account for the partial lock. I am detecting an anomaly in these brainwaves that I have yet to determine the source of."

"Probably telling you he's off his rocker."

There was a pause and Al could almost imagine Ziggy sticking her virtual nose in the air. "I am quite capable of identifying the patterns of mentally unstable human beings. The current anomaly is not something I have encountered before."

"Okay, okay, where is he?

"The source of the lock is the cafeteria on the third floor."


End file.
